


Under My Skin

by KyloTrashForever



Series: Piping Hot Virgini-tea [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Curiosity Got The Dick, Dick-Vision Goggles, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Loss of Virginity, Oh No You Lost Your Towel, POV Alternating, Pining, Rey is Poe’s Little Sister, Rey is curious, Uncircumcised Penis, Virgin Ben Solo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-25 22:51:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21363967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyloTrashForever/pseuds/KyloTrashForever
Summary: She can’t help thinking that it looked… smoother than one she’s ever seen. She finds herself wondering what it might feel like in her hand. Not in a sexual way, per se (although there is a bit of that as well, if she’s being honest)—mostly from a curiosity standpoint. She is an academic, after all. It’s in her nature to be curious.But there is nothing academic about the way she’s staring at his mouth while he speaks to her brother from across their dining room table, chatting about some inane thing she can’t muster up the strength to pretend to be interested in. One of the sports, she thinks. There was talk of balls.She wonders if he likes to be touched differently than the men she’s accustomed to.In which Ben gets under Rey’s skin—so she gets under his.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: Piping Hot Virgini-tea [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1678813
Comments: 236
Kudos: 1275
Collections: Reylo Prompt Fills (@reylo_prompts)





	1. Curiosity Killed The Cat

**Author's Note:**

> So, TMI but about two weeks ago I found out I had a particular kink. Then a few days ago I saw this prompt from @reylo_prompts:  
_ PhD student Rey has never dated an uncut guy. Ben has had very few partners and doesn’t know what he likes in terms of oral, handies, and positions. Rey sets out to determine his favorite things through a series of experiments. Ben is a more than willing test subject._  
and it felt like kismet. 
> 
> I watched... a lot of... research material for this. 
> 
> A lot a lot.
> 
> (Chapter one is a Rey POV and chapter two will be Ben’s.)

* * *

“_Jesus fuck, Rey—what are you doing home?” _

Rey would like to say that she can unsee the image of Ben’s dick. She would like to say that the size (large), shape (long), and color (slightly pink, but he _ did _just get out of the shower) isn’t seared into her brain for what will probably be the rest of her life. 

She would _ like _ to say that, because she thinks there isn’t any coming back from it. She thinks that you can’t actually _ see _your friend’s dick and not think about it.

She blinks for several seconds, mouth hanging open and hyper focused on what she _ shouldn’t _have ever seen—until the moment where Ben seems to remember himself, scrambling for the towel he lost when she bumped into him and hastily wrapping it back around his waist. 

It makes her remember herself as well. 

“Shit. _ Shit.” _ She covers her eyes (not that it matters, even then she might as well be wearing dick-vision goggles), feeling her face flame. “I’m sorry. I’m _ so _ sorry_.” _

She hears him make a frustrated sound. “No, _ I’m _sorry—I shouldn’t have left my clothes on your bed.”

Ten minutes ago—that statement wouldn’t have done anything to her, but ten minutes ago—she didn’t know what his dick looked like. So.

“Your clothes are… on my bed?”

“Yes, yes,” he huffs. “You were out of towels in the bathroom, and I went to grab one of yours from the closet because I know you hide some in there from Poe, and I had already kicked off my shoes, and I just—_ fuck. _I wasn’t even thinking. I didn’t think you’d be home for another hour.”

“I wasn’t supposed to be,” she answers thickly. “Lab ran short.”

“Can I just—” Another disgruntled noise escapes him, and she knows if she were to peek he’d be red in the face. “Let me just get dressed.”

“Sure,” she mutters back, promptly turning to escape this horrible situation. “I’ll just… be on the couch.”

She doesn’t look back, but then again, with the image branded on her brain—she doesn’t really have to.

* * *

Rey picks at a loose thread on the old couch she’d found at a flea market—trying to focus on discerning the pattern on the velour fabric. She thinks it’s some sort of leaves. In fact, she’s pretty sure she’s seen the same pattern before. Perhaps at a relative’s house?

She is also pretty sure she’s terrible at distracting herself.

“This is weird,” Ben says finally, hands on his knees as he sits tensely on the other end of the couch. “Isn’t it.”

“Sort of,” she answers honestly. She can certainly say this isn’t something she’d considered when she offered up their shower and an apartment key when his went out. “No. I don’t know.”

“I really didn’t think you were home.”

“I really didn’t mean to bump into you. I didn’t hear you in there.” 

“Right.” She turns her head to find him nodding to himself, brow furrowed in thought before he looks up at her. “This is fine, right? It’s no big deal.”

She tries not to balk as she remembers just what a _ big deal _it actually was. 

“Sure,” she says casually. “Not a big deal.”

“You’re barely looking at me.”

_ That’s because when I look at you I see your penis. _

“Yes, I am.” No, she isn’t. Not really. She’s concentrating on the little mole by his nose. “Looking at you.”

“Rey.”

Her eyes flick up, which is a mistake, she thinks, based on the weird fluttering that ensues in her chest. “Hm?”

“Is it weird?”

She blows out a breath. “I’m sorry. This is totally me. It’s a _ little _ weird. I just…” Heat creeps up her neck. “I was just… very surprised is all.”

“Right,” he laughs nervously. “I’m sure that isn’t what you were expecting to see today.”

“No, no,” she argues. “ I don’t think it’s so much that I saw it—I mean, objectively, it’s just an organ like any other. I know that every man has one.”

“Great,” he mutters. “Glad we cleared that up.”

“I think I was just surprised because, well—” She chews at her bottom lip as she wonders how best to describe it before deciding to just go for it. “I’ve never seen one… like yours.”

“Like…” He looks confused for a moment, and then it seems to hit him. “Oh.”

“Not that it’s _ weird _or anything,” she asserts. “I think it just jarred me?”

She flicks her eyes over to him to find his cheeks reddening. “Yeah. I get it.”

“I don’t think I’ve even seen one in _ porn.” _

“I get it, Rey.”

“Sorry.” She grimaces. She has a bad habit of babbling when she’s nervous. “Anyway. We could just forget it happened.”

He peeks up at her. “We can?”

“Sure,” she laughs awkwardly. “Unless you think I should show you mine to make it even?” His mouth falls open, and she immediately curses herself because _ damn _her nervous chatter. “Just kidding! It’s fine, Ben. We’ll just forget it ever happened.”

He bites at his lip. “We will?”

“Yes.” She nods heavily to assure them both. “It isn’t weird unless we make it weird. It never happened.”

“It never happened,” he echoes, looking a little more relaxed. 

“Forgotten.”

* * *

Except Rey doesn’t forget it. 

In fact, it’s all she thinks about for hours after. 

She can’t help thinking that it looked… smoother than any dick she’s ever seen. She finds herself wondering what it might feel like in her hand. Not in a sexual way, per se (although there is a bit of that as well, if she’s being honest)—mostly from a curiosity standpoint. She is an academic, after all. It’s in her nature to be curious. 

But there is nothing academic about the way she’s staring at his mouth while he speaks to her brother from across their dining room table, chatting about some inane thing she can’t muster up the strength to pretend to be interested in. One of the sports, she thinks. There was talk of balls. 

She wonders if he likes to be touched differently than the men she’s accustomed to. 

It’s not a polite line of thinking to have about someone you’ve been friends with for so long, but to be fair—he was Poe’s friend first. Perhaps that makes it more acceptable to wonder if she could slip her tongue under the little sheath of skin at the head.

It is these types of thoughts that carry her through the evening—through dinner and the movie that she barely watches, and when Poe announces he’s turning in early, it makes the air seem a little thicker when it’s just them to finish it. 

She’s at least four feet from him on the couch, but she might as well be sitting right next to him for as close as he feels. She thinks he’ll say something, but he doesn’t, and neither does she, and after about fifteen minutes—questions are bubbling up inside until they’re overflowing.

She isn’t the only one thinking about it, she thinks, because when she turns inward to face him, he gives a little jump as if he’s been bracing himself for it. His head turns slightly, eyes flicking up and down the length of her nervously. 

“I just have to ask,” she starts. 

Ben sighs resignedly, as if he’d been expecting this, fingers flexing against his jeans as he bunches the denim in that way he does when he’s nervous. “Go ahead.”

“Is there any particular reason?”

“Reason for…?”

“That you aren’t...” She makes a scissoring motion with her fingers. “You know.”

Ben groans. “I thought we were forgetting about this.”

“Come on! I’m just curious.”

“You’re _ always _curious.”

“Then you shouldn’t be surprised. Come on. Tell me.”

“I don’t know!” He doesn’t look her in the eyes. “It’s not _ that _uncommon. It’s really only Americans that do that like some sort of standard. My mother spent most of her twenties in Europe. I guess she—” He shrugs his shoulders, throwing up his hands as if he’s scrambling. “Some doctors say it desensitizes it to… do that. Anyway. So maybe—”

“Wait, does that mean you’re more sensitive?”

His cheeks redden. “I don’t know. I was just giving an example. It’s not like I have something to compare it to.”

“What about when women touch you? Does it—”

“_Jesus, _Rey.” He turns his head to glance over the couch towards the hallway that Poe disappeared down. “We shouldn’t be talking about this.”

Rey waves him off. “He’s buried under his sleep apnea machine by now. He’s out, I promise you. So tell me. when they touch you, does it—”

“I don’t know.”

“You didn’t even let me finish. I just wanted to know if—”

“I know. I’m going to stop you right there. I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

He’s still not looking at her. “I don’t. Know.”

It takes her a second longer than it should to catch his meaning—but when she does: “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

That seems very wasteful to her, and also a little unfair. She has never been particularly _ needful _ of sex, and yet she’s had enough to establish some sort of baseline as to what she might like. How is there any justice in someone like Ben—who is perfectly virile and nice-looking (she's never actually thought about it before, but he _ is _very nice looking, with his wide shoulders and his full mouth and his soft hair) hasn’t had any at all?

“So you don’t even know what you like?”

His lips purse into what almost resembles a pout. “I know what I like.”

“But how can you, if you’ve only ever been with yourself?”

“Jesus fuck this is a terrible conversation.”

“I’m just curious,” she repeats. “I guess we don’t have to talk about it.”

“I would like that. Yes.”

“Okay.”

The pair of them stare back at the screen—and she tells herself to let it go, and it works. For about forty-five seconds. But Rey has never really been the type to just _ let it go— _she leaves that particular personality trait to singing ice princesses, preferring hard answers instead.

“So why haven’t you?”

He lets out a deep sigh through his nostrils. “Why haven’t I what?”

“You know. Been with someone.”

“Gee. You know, I guess I just prefer myself to others.”

She blinks a few times. “Really?”

“No,” he grumbles. “Not really.”

“So you’d _ want _to? If you had the opportunity?”

“What sort of question is that?”

“A valid one. Would you?”

“Yes, Rey,” he answers tightly. “I think it’s safe to say that I would want to. If I could.”

“Okay.”

She thinks he panics a little, when she begins to scoot across the couch, his big body backing into the arm of it as his hands brace against it. “What are you doing?”

“You said you’d want to. If you could.”

His eyes go wide. “I didn’t mean—”

“Oh, shit.” She stills a bit, brow furrowing. “Am I not your type?”

“Are you not my…” He laughs, but it’s manic. “What are you looking to do here, Rey?”

“I was going to touch you.”

“You want to… touch me.”

“I do.” The more she thinks about it, the more it becomes more apparent. “I _ really _do.”

“I don’t—this is—I’m not sure what to do here.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” she assures him, tucking her legs underneath her as she pushes closer against his side. “Just be still.”

She doesn’t waste any time as she reaches for the button of his jeans, and Ben watches this happen with a shocked expression, but thankfully does nothing to stop her. She’s a little giddy with it now; there’s something about scratching that itch, satisfying her curiosity and getting to the bottom of something—and her skin is practically _ vibrating _with the idea of being able to explore this to her heart’s content. 

Ben is vibrating a little bit as well, but for a different reason, she thinks. 

She marvels a bit as she works the denim apart, noticing the way his boxer briefs cling to his thick shape. She pulls his fly apart enough so that she can run a finger down as much of him as she can. When she flicks up her gaze, the look on Ben’s face doesn’t leave anything to the imagination. “You’re hard.” 

“You’re touching me.”

She supposes that makes sense—especially if no one ever has before. It’s a little thrilling, being the only one who’s touched him. 

He aids her when she grabs a fistful of denim and cotton to begin to yank everything over his hips, lifting them eagerly and letting her until they’re bunched around his thighs and finally, _ finally _she can affirm that yes, it looks just like she remembers. 

Except worlds different.

It’s straining now, pointing up towards his navel and so _ red—_nothing like the soft fresh-from-the-shower pink from earlier. The head of him looks different now, peeking out of the now-taut flesh that is stretched over it, and she reaches to press a finger there, testing the little lip of skin and feeling the way it moves. 

She hears Ben draw in a shaky breath as she traces the entire ring of flesh around the little slit—mesmerized by the give of it. 

“Its so soft,” she murmurs. “You can feel that, right?”

“Yes,” he answers through gritted teeth. “I can feel it.”

“And it feels good?”

“_Yes.” _

“What if I…” She wraps her hand around the entirety of his glans experimentally, giving a light squeeze before she begins to draw down slowly. “That?”

“_Fuck.” _ He tilts up his hips almost as if by instinct, reaching to cover his face in his hands. “_Yes. _I can feel everything.”

“Is it sensitive?”

“I don’t—_fuck—_I don’t know? It just—_goddamnit—_it feels good.”

“I wonder how far it…” 

She tucks her tongue between her teeth, pulling down the foreskin until the entirety of his cockhead is bared to her sight—enjoying the slow slide of it that perfectly encases every little ridge of him. The skin is darker underneath, almost purpled with need and _ so solid. _ She finds it amazing that something so soft could hold something so _ hard. _ For a moment she imagines that same slow slide somewhere else. She imagines it sliding against the inner walls of her cunt, and she’s _ wet _she realizes. Only from the thought of it. Something that is unheard of for her.

But she has other things to discern here. 

She releases him suddenly, watching as the skin creeps back into place as if drawn by a lazy spring—briefly reminding her of one of those water tube toys that always seemed a little perverted for children. She licks her lips as the foreskin swallows the head of him back up—leaving only the pink little slit that is now beading with pre-cum. She reaches to press her thumb there, applying a bit of pressure.

“Do you like that?”

She asks for purely experimental reasons—needing to introduce a few more variables, but the way her heart pounds when she looks at him, taking in his slow nod and his parted mouth and his hooded eyes—it’s anything but. 

She brings her other hand to grip at his shoulder so that she might curl further against him, resting her cheek against the broad mass so that she can watch what she’s doing without giving in to the urge to just watch his face instead. It’s very… distracting. 

She can’t think of a time when she’s done this—just this—touching a man like she is, with only the intent to pleasure him. Her sexual experiences have been few and far between, both from lack of interest and her schedule with grad school, and every one has been hurried and solely for a change of pace from orgasming with her own hand. 

But she… really enjoys this. Oddly enough. 

She likes the way his breath catches when she presses the pads of her fingertips against his shaft, massaging at the soft casing only to watch it shift and slide with her touch. 

“Rey,” he chokes out as she begins to lazily pump him so that she can watch the head appear and disappear over and over. “If you keep doing that I’ll—”

“You can come,” she answers a little too breathily. “I want you to.”

“_Fuck.” _

She works him faster, feeling him twitch against her hand, and she does, she realizes. Want him to come. She wants to see it. He’s so _ pretty. _She thinks to see him come all over her hand would be just as interesting. 

“Tell me if you need it faster,” she rasps. “Or harder. Does it hurt when I—?”

She squeezes a little tighter just as her fist works up from the base—and Ben’s entire body jolts, his cock following suit. She just manages to enclose her hand around his cockhead as warm wetness coats her palm. Her fist overflows until it runs down her wrist, but she doesn’t let go until he is still. Until the soft skin gathers just below her hand as his cock softens. 

She pulls her hand away with rapt interest, staring at the coating of fluid there and wondering suddenly what he tastes like. It’s not really something she’s ever been interested before—but now she thinks…

She hears him give a choked sound when she brings her fingers to her lips and licks them lightly. When she looks out at him she finds him gaping at her, mouth hanging open and eyes wide as his chest heaves with effort.

“Sorry,” she offers. “I was curious.”

“Curious,” he parrots. 

“You don’t taste bad,” she informs him, thinking he might want to know. 

He’s still looking at her like he can’t quite figure out what’s happening. He makes a sound of protest when she wipes the rest on her shirt, but she just shrugs.

“Sleep shirt,” she assures him. “It’s fine. I’ll just throw it in the wash.” Her eyes flick down to his spent cock that lays against his open fly now. “Oh, sorry. Let me get that.”

He nearly jumps out of his skin when she reaches to tuck him back into his jeans, batting her hands away and taking over to do it himself. He runs his fingers through his hair after, sparing a dazed glance in her direction. 

“I can’t believe that just happened.”

“I liked it,” she tells him. “I don’t normally get turned on from touching someone.”

She thinks she sees his eye twitch. “Turned… on?”

“I really like the way you feel.”

“The way I… feel.”

“We should see what else you like.” She nods resolutely, thinking that sounds like a fine idea. She checks the clock on the wall, frowning. “But I have class early tomorrow. Shoot. What about tomorrow?”

He still looks dazed. “Tomorrow?”

“Yeah? I can come over after my afternoon lab. Would that be okay?”

“And you want to do that. You want to come over.”

“I come over all the time, Ben,” she laughs. 

“Not like that,” he breathes. “You know it’s different.”

It is different, she thinks. Some part of her recognizes that wholly—but that part is being squashed by her now-raging desire to touch him again, even so soon after having just done so. 

“But I want to,” she assures him. “If you do?”

He makes a sound, something like a laugh that gets lodged in his throat, not quite making its way out. 

She curls her hand over his thigh, and his eyes fly down to the action as his breath catches. “Do you want me to, Ben?”

He swallows thickly, eyes traveling upward slowly to catch hers. “Yes,” he breathes. “Yes. I want that.”

She thought maybe she’d have to convince him, since none of the time they’ve spent together in the last year has even come _ close _ to this—and some part of her is curious about his easy assent. About how _ eagerly _he gives it. Yes, she’s very curious about it. 

She thinks maybe she’ll get to the bottom of that tomorrow, too. 


	2. But Satisfaction Brought It Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk man it got soft on me
> 
> This amazing gif board was gifted to me by [colourisgreen](https://twitter.com/colourisgreen) on Twitter! 😍

**I think you should probably come once before I get there.**

Ben stares down at his phone as if it’s some sort of alien device—reading the words on the screen clearly but still unable to convince himself Rey _ actually _ sent him this text. It’s not the only one she’s sent in the last twenty-hour hours, no, the: _ I did a lot of research last night _ and _ do you think you’d be okay with foregoing condoms _had nearly done him in as well.

Ben has known Rey for fourteen months, seventeen days, and roughly seven-odd hours… and he has been in love with her for something like thirteen months, four days, and eighteen of them. 

Not that she knows that.

When Poe had informed Ben that his little sister would be coming to stay with him while she attended Chandrila nearby—Ben hadn’t really thought much of it. He’s not even sure what he expected, but when she waltzed into the kitchen that first day—cut off shorts and a faded Dunder Mifflin t-shirt and a smile that sort of left him at a loss for words—well. He might have been a little gone even then. 

He’s _ still _ a little dazed that she’s coming over. That she’s coming over with the intention to _ touch _ him again. That’s she’s touched him _ already. _

Ben thinks there’s nothing about him that would make her want to do so—he’s too big, too moody, three years older than she is, doesn’t do anything particularly interesting for work (she’s a _ genius _ for fuck’s sake)—but for whatever reason, she seems to be _ very _ interested in his dick. 

It’s dangerous, he thinks, to allow this to go on knowing the way he feels about her. Knowing the way she most certainly _ doesn’t _feel about him. Knowing that when her curiosity fades, they’ll go back to some shadow of what they were.

But none of that stops him from doing exactly what she asks him to do.

He doesn’t even have to try that hard, to come once before she gets there. Not with the image of her hands on him. Not with the words she’d so casually murmured near his ear. 

_ You can come. I want you to. _

Honestly, that’s really all it takes to have him coming all over his hand. Nothing at all, really. And as he sits there breathless after, idling stroking his still-sensitive cock, still unsure as to why she’s so interested in it—he realizes she’s going to be _ touching _him again. 

As he struggles to catch his breath, peeking over at the clock on the wall nervously—he realizes she may even do more than that.

* * *

He knows she’s coming, but still the knock jars him. Partially because it comes a good twenty minutes before it should, partially because he just cleaned cum off his hand—but mostly because it’s fucking _ Rey _ and she’s here and she wants to _ touch _him. 

So if he’s a little speechless when he opens the door to her messy bun and her baring-one-shoulder-sweater—he thinks that’s perfectly understandable. 

She’s just so fucking _ pretty. _

“Hey,” she offers with a casual smile that he can’t really return because she’s actually _ here_. “I’m early. I know. Lab let out early.”

He moves aside to let her in, but he still hasn’t quite figured out how to speak again yet. 

“Which is great,” she goes on. “I was so distracted anyway.”

Of course this is the moment where he remembers how to use his tongue. “Distracted?”

She drops her bag just beside his door, kicking off her shoes as she adds them to the pile. “Well, yeah.” She gives a little laugh. “If you’d done as much _ research _as I did between my morning class and my afternoon lab—you’d be distracted, too.”

Suddenly his throat is very dry. “What”—he tries to swallow, but his tongue feels too thick—“sort of research?”

“Mostly oral,” she tells him flippantly. “I wanted to make sure it was good for you. Being your first time. I can handle the rest, I think.”

His brain short-circuits a little, mouth hanging open as she strides over to his couch to plop down, and Jesus _ Christ _ right to it then? Had she really said the _ rest? _ What is the _ rest? _

She pats the space beside her, giving him that same easy grin that twists his stomach in knots. For a moment he’s frozen somewhere near the door—and he sees the way her smile falters and her brow furrows with worry.

“You still want to do this, right, Ben?”

He nods frantically, scrambling over to join her before she can get any other ideas. 

“Sorry,” he mutters. “I just—are you sure _ you _ still want to do this? Because I don’t want you to think you _ have to—_”

“Ben,” she laughs. “I’ve literally been thinking about this since yesterday. I’m one hundred percent on board.”

And his dick tells him to agree with that. To not look a gift horse in the mouth—but his brain has much stupider ideas. 

“Rey, I—” His cock screams at him for even suggesting anything but what she’s offering. “Is this—is this weird? What we’re doing?”

She turns her head to the side. “Weird?”

“I just—are we—” He huffs out a breath. “I don’t want you to feel weird talking to me after this.” He averts his eyes, muttering, “I don’t want you to _ stop _talking to me.”

It takes him a moment, to find the courage to look at her again—and he’s surprised when he does, by the soft look she’s giving him.

“I wouldn’t,” she answers quietly. “Stop talking to you.”

“Are you sure? Because—”

It surprises him, when she closes the distance to press her fingers to his lips—but mostly because for a moment he thought she might kiss him. Something she didn’t do yesterday. She’s had his _ cum _on her tongue, but hasn’t kissed him. It’s a little disconcerting. 

“I still want to,” she tells him firmly. “If you do.”

He nods, because what else can he do? It’s a reckless and terrible idea, and he knows he should put a _ stop _to it, with how he feels, but it turns out Ben isn’t the smartest in this regard. The last of his brain cells fail him when she tucks her lip between her teeth and moves to kneel between his legs.

He’s wearing sweatpants this time (yes, okay, maybe he put a little preemptive thought into this)—and Rey wastes no time in working them down his thighs, actually _ grinning _when she realizes he’s not wearing anything underneath. 

“Did you… you know?”

Ben’s not sure he knows his own name right now, since she’s already running a finger down the entire length of his cock. “What?”

“Did you come once?”

He feels heat creep up his neck, nodding.

“Recently?”

He lets out a shaky breath as she presses her thumb and forefinger on either side of him, pushing back his foreskin slowly as he just manages, “Yes.”

“I read it helps,” she murmurs. “If you’ve never done this before.”

“Don’t remind me,” he grumbles.

“I actually think it’s a shame,” she tells him. “You’re so…”

He wants to ask her what exactly he _ is— _ but he loses his train of thought when he feels the warmth of her breath against the head of his cock. He holds his own, feeling it trapped in his chest as he stares down at her with wide eyes—just catching her gaze as she actually _ holds _his cock to work her wrist, sliding the head against her lower lip as if only to feel it. 

“It really is so _ soft,” _she hums. “This part. I really like it.”

She looses her tongue, and Ben can’t think, can't _ breathe. _ He doesn’t think he’ll survive it, he _ can’t— _but when that warm, wet part of her flattens just underneath the broad tip of him to slide back-and-forth, Ben manages to hold it together, even if only a little. 

“Oh, _ fuck.” _

He can’t tear his eyes away even though they feel heavy now, wanting to burn every second of this into his memory. Wanting to see it when he fucking _ sleeps _if he can. For a moment she just teases, not that he’s complaining—exploring the shape of him with her tongue as she traces the tip of it around the softer skin that is now stretched tight around the end of his dick.

“I don’t know what it is,” she tells him just after flicking her tongue against his slit. “I’ve never really enjoyed this before.” She leaves an open-mouthed kiss over the entire head of him, her eyes fluttering a little. “Maybe it’s just—” She swallows, looking up at him, and he wants to know what it is. _ Needs _to know—

But then her lips close around him, and Ben sort of forgets how to think. 

She suckles the end of him lightly, her tongue still lazily circling around every part of him she can reach, and he can’t help but let his eyes roll back a little. She pushes down the length of him as she takes him deeper inside, and he’s grateful that she asked him to come already, because he sort of wants to again right now. He’s caught between desperately wanting that moment of relief and wanting this to last as long as humanly possible. 

He can feel the soft skin surrounding his shaft bunch beneath the force of her lips that are suctioned to him as she draws back up, and she wraps her fingers around the base of him to grip him as she strokes upwards in time with her mouth. She licks at the head when she releases him with a soft _ pop— _swirling it around and around as she teases the ring of soft skin there. 

“There’s something”—she pumps her hand up and down his length lazily—“I saw. Something I want to try. Can I…?”

His breath leaves him in a rush, something like a pained laugh. “You can do whatever you want to me, Rey.”

Her lips curl in a grin, and he isn’t sure why this pleases her, but he can’t really dwell on it when she leans back in to flick her tongue teasingly at the rim of his foreskin. He watches with wide eyes as she continues to run it along the edge in a slow back-and-forth—nearly choking on his own tongue when she slips the warm, wet organ beneath the skin to tuck it underneath. 

Ben thinks he might be dead, surely he isn’t _ actually _ watching her tongue slide beneath his skin, something he hadn’t even known was _ possible— _and all the air in his lungs forces itself out of him as he groans long and loud, unable to help it when his head lolls a little. He forces himself to watch, not wanting to miss this, and Rey hums against his cock as her tongue strokes his shaft lovingly underneath the now-stretched skin that is wrapped around. 

It’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen, that little bulge of her tongue beneath his skin, and he can feel it—that hot churning in his belly that signals the building of an impending release. His cock twitches in warning, and all at once her tongue draws back to slide out, leaving him breathless and needy and _ wanting _in a way he’s never been before, and the whine that escapes him is involuntary. 

She pushes up to look at him, shushing him lightly. “You’re close, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” he answers hoarsely. “I’m close.”

“I was going to let you come in my mouth,” she tells him matter-of-factly, and he imagines his expression is pained. “But I—that is—” She sweeps her tongue across her lower lip. “Would it be okay if you finished inside?”

His mind is little more than white noise. “Inside…?”

“Inside me,” she clarifies with a sly little smile.

“Would it be okay if I…” A strangled laugh escapes him. “Rey, you’re _ sure _you want to—”

The words die on his tongue when she begins to tug at her sweater, pulling it over her head to toss it aside and revealing there is absolutely _ nothing _underneath. Words are fairly impossible after that. 

He barely has time to really appreciate her tits that he’s been dreaming about for the better part of a year (soft, pink, _ perfect)— _ because she’s already working everything below over her hips, and Ben thinks there no way he’s going to _ survive _ this. She tugs at his sweats to pull them completely off from where they are strewn below his knees—climbing up to straddle his thighs as she grabs for his shirt next. 

When there is nothing left between them, nothing but their skin and Ben’s racing heart—Rey slides her hands over his chest with a bemused little smile as she shakes her head slowly. “I just never noticed… how _ big _you are. Or maybe I did? I’m not sure.”

His cock knows she’s talking about things _ above _the belt right now, but it doesn’t stop it from giving an appreciative twitch. 

“I’ve been thinking about it since last night,” she admits. “What it would feel like.” She swallows visibly. “Wondering if it will feel different.”

“I’m not sure,” he answers breathlessly. .

The corners of her mouth twitch. “I know.” Her eyes settle on his lips, and his breath catches when she leans in, because again he thinks—thinks that she might—

And she does. This time. Her lips are warm and soft, just like the rest of her, and it’s somehow nothing like he imagined and like _ everything _ he imagined. It’s _ perfect. _It’s more than. 

Her hands cup his face as her tongue traces his lower lip, and it’s easy to open up for her. He’s only been thinking about it for what it would feel like for _ forever. _ His hands hover awkwardly, unsure if he should touch her or not but _ desperately _wanting to—and she makes it easy for him when she grabs his hand with hers to bring it up to cover her breast. He gives a testing squeeze as his palm engulfs the entirety of it, enjoying the little sound she makes, letting it spur him on to pinch lightly at her nipple. 

She slides back against his cock, and he gasps when slick heat touches him there, pulling away a little to manage, “You’re wet.”

He can _ feel _her smile. “You’re touching me.”

He remembers saying the same thing to her. He wonders if she knows he meant it was because it was _ her, _ just _ her _that was touching him. He wants to do more of it. Wants to touch her just as much as she has him. 

“I’m not sure what—tell me what I can—”

“You don’t have to do anything,” she tells him just as she did the night prior. She kisses him again, softer this time, and he wants to tell her that he _ wants _ to touch her, that he wants _ everything— _ but she’s already reaching between them to grip his cock, lifting as she brings the head to press against _ warm _ and _ wet. _“Just be still,” she murmurs just before he feels her tight heat swallow up the tip of him.

He struggles to hold onto her hips, hissing out a breath between his teeth as she slowly lowers down onto him, having to close his eyes because even now the urge to come inside her is _ overwhelming. _

“_God_, Rey,” he grated. “You feel—”

“It _ does _ feel different,” she says huskily. She finds his mouth to slide hers against it again, murmuring, “It feels _ better.” _

It takes her a few moments to adjust, he thinks, or maybe she’s just going slowly for his benefit—and Ben isn’t sure how much time passes before every inch of him is fit snugly inside her. Her inner muscles clench around him, making his grip tighten at her hips, and he has to let his head fall to her shoulder to ride out the all-over shudder that passes through him.

Her palms glide over his shoulders to soothe, and he lets his hands slide up her back to pull her a little closer—the _ enormity _ of what's happening here only evident to him. He knows he’s making more of this than it is, that he shouldn’t let himself feel so deliriously _ happy, _ knowing that this is something altogether _ different _ for her—but he can’t help it. It’s _ Rey. _

So he doesn’t hesitate to take the kiss she offers when he turns his face back up to look at her. He doesn’t hold back the needful groan that sounds in his chest when she begins to rock against his hips. He tilts up his own as if by instinct—thrusting up into her warmth to meet the rising and falling of her hips as they fall into a rhythm, their breath mingling with each other’s between kisses that are turning sloppy. 

“Rey,” he grits out. “I don’t think—” His hand glides over her belly and onwards to cover her breast, thumb sliding across her nipple as she shivers with it. “I don’t know if I can—”

Her lips trail across his jaw, licking at a place beneath his ear before she whispers, “I told you. You can come. I _ want _you to.”

And it affects him just like it did the first time. Just like it did _ after. _He feels his skin heat and his cock swell and she doesn’t need to tell him to. He thinks he’s right on the edge all on his own. 

“Does it—” He grunts when she sucks a wet patch at his throat, shifting her hips as he thrusts inside so that he feels her _ everywhere. _“Do you feel good?”

“_So _ good,” she tells him. “You feel _ amazing, _Ben.”

That little bit of praise is enough to have him tensing up, and he knows he has seconds—a _ minute _at best.

“I want to—how do I—” 

“Later,” she rasps. “I’ve got it. For now.”

His mind reels that there will be a _ later— _but he’s distracted by the way her hand snakes down between them. By the way her fingers press between her folds to brush against the base of his cock, working herself in a steady pattern that has her clenching around him. 

And it’s too soon, it’s _ entirely _ too soon—but he can see the way she works her clit with practiced ease, can _ feel _ inside what it does to her—and it’s enough. It’s _ more _than enough. 

“Rey. _ Rey.” _

“It’s okay,” she coos. “It’s _ okay_, Ben. _ Come.” _

He really doesn’t need her urging, but it washes over him all the same—the tension building and _ building _until he can hardly maintain a steady pace. He can hear the slap of her thighs against his as he ruts up into her mindlessly, operating solely on instinct at this point, his hands touching her anywhere they can reach and mouth tasting just as much. 

And when he starts to come, when his body tenses to the point of being unbearable—it’s an all-over relief. To let go. He pulls her against him, his body shaking with an effort to hold it together, his cock twitching inside her as he fills her up. 

Even after, when he’s breathless, he _ just _manages to rest his head against her shoulder, looking down between them to where her fingers still circle below to chase after him. 

“Don’t move,” she whispers hoarsely. “It feels better when you’re inside.”

Ben has absolutely no plans to move unless she asks him to—feeling her contract around him as her breath leaves her in little pants melding with his name that he wants to sear onto the surface of his brain for the rest of his natural life. 

He watches her come undone, a flush spreading across her chest as her eyes flutter closed and her mouth parts. Her body trembles against him, and Ben doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything more beautiful than the way she looks right now. 

He begins to panic a little when she slumps against him, realizing that this will end soon—that this may be all he gets. 

“Rey.” His hand spreads between her shoulder blades to attempt to bring her closer still. “Rey, I—”

She doesn’t let him finish. She turns up her face, pressing her lips to his, and he forgets what he was going to say when the warmth of them takes away a bit of the nerves. 

“Well.” Her lips curl against his. “Do you think you have an idea about what you like now?”

“I…” _ I love you. I want to do this again. I want to do this a million more times. _“I think… I just like you.”

His heart races with nerves as he waits for her reply, and her widening smile takes the edge off a little. “I had a feeling you might.”

He’s acutely aware that his now-softening cock is still trapped inside her, but he doesn’t dare move yet. “So what now?”

“I think”—she scrunches up her face as she makes a show of considering—“you should make me dinner.”

“You want me... to make you dinner?”

“I think I’ve earned it.”

“Yes,” he blurts out. “I can do that. I can make you dinner.”

“And after”—she runs a finger back-and-forth across his chest, still grinning bemusedly—“I’ll show you what _ I _like. If you want.”

“If I…” He can’t help it. He barks out a laugh. “Yes,” he tells her, still half-chuckling. “Yes. I want that.”

“Good.” She presses a sharp kiss to his cheek. “Because I think I like you, too.”

“You do?”

“Mhm.” She laughs a little under her breath, wiggling her hips in a way that makes him groan. “Isn’t it funny that I had to see your dick to figure that out?”

He purses his lips. “Hilarious.”

“I still have more I want to explore there,” she tells him a slightly lower voice. “It might take a while. I did… _ a lot _of research after all.”

“You’ve always been curious,” he murmurs dazedly, still half in shock over this turn of events. 

“Yeah,” she hums. “Yeah, I have.”

Ben has never been more grateful for anything in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 🍆 ❤️  
(Also, was I the only one who didn’t know you could uh, get your tongue under there in this instance? Because pr0n really changed my life recently.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
Come say hi on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/kylotrashforever)!  
I made a [Twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/KTF_Reylo), come follow me!


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